A tree hugger’s ode

I’m not sure when, but somewhere along the line I started realizing that trees were talking to me. I believe in the magic of trees. They’re graceful, patient, resilient, and wise. No matter where I go, they never fail to humble me…

Here I am in the forests in northern Washington, where I think I first learned that cigarette butts were actually garbage. (Still working on bring *that* karma bank account back to zero!)

Trondheim’s trees were so wild they wanted to give me a hug. And they were in a cemetery.

Oh Minneapolis. The tree canopies over busy Lyndale Avenue in the fall will never fail to make me smile.

It’s all green and mossy–how fitting for a tree in Ireland! It’s as if it’s wearing a tree fleece.

This one told me a few secrets. I’m headed back to Big Sur for a second installment one of these days.

To all the trees in the world: You know I love you, but I just wanted to give you a little shout out. You make every day! (And you make tons of oxygen…gracias!)

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Have you been to Mir woods yet? there is some amazing trees there and i'm sure they would love to see you 🙂

I can totally identify, i used to risk arrest to stop trees being cut down, i once put my head between tree and chainsaw once, when i was finally arrested some 12 hours later i watched them cut the tree down, ill admit i was heartbroken. in the weeks i had spent living in the tree i had come to see it as a friend, i only wish i had been able to save it and many more..

I love it! Palm trees with Jamaican accents! You should have heard the trees in Ireland…they have the best accents 🙂 I would love to hang out…I think we would have a blast; we'd probably scare a few people too. Haha!